I Hate Nepenthe
A good friend, who I love very much, wrote this to me today:
“The reason I am sending this to you is that it is one of the jillion “heartbreak and longing for the love you lost” texts on the planet, and of course that is the theme of your life, so it reminds me of you. One way in which you differ from the poem’s speaker is that he longs for nepenthe — some draught that would enable him to forget so that he can ease his pain and move forward in his life. I wonder why it is so important to you to define yourself by this suffering. I am not saying one should stop loving ever. Heaven knows I love those I have lost. I am not saying one should forget or try to forget. But I question your choice of re-opening the wound every day. This is it. This is your one chance at life. Why do you want to be so sad?”
Then she included the text to Edgar Allen Poe’s “The Raven”. The text to that poem can be found here.
I responded to her by writing:
The desire for nepenthe is likely a root cause for some people’s alcoholism.
Edgar Allen Poe was likely a severe alcoholic.
He wrote about what he knew and what he personally had felt and experienced.
Some people may perceive that life might be better lived each day with one hand behind their back, fingers crossed.
I prefer admitting wounds are still open.
nepenthe -
1. a drug or drink, or the plant yielding it, mentioned by ancient writers as having the power to bring forgetfulness of sorrow or trouble.
2. anything inducing a pleasurable sensation of forgetfulness, esp. of sorrow or trouble.
She introduced me to Sting in 1986. He released this song in 1987:
“Looked beneath his shirt today
There was a wound in his breast so deep and wide
From the wound a lovely flower grew from somewhere deep inside
He turned around to face his mother
To show her the wound in his breast that burned like a brand
The sword that cut him open
Was the sword in his mother’s hand.” - Sting’s “A Lazarus Heart”.
As much as she is my love, she is my rival - I didn’t make up the rules of that part of love - love has always had that as a component. Two people can’t care greatly for each other without also being great rivals on many things (like you and me for example).
To the degree others may pursue nepenthe, I pursue honesty.
Why do I choose honesty and its inherent and regular sadness?
Because love is what a person does, and not simply what a person tries really, really hard to believe, whether or not it’s true.
“How we spend our days, of course, is how we spend our lives.” - Annie Dillard
You have mentioned that Annie Dillard’s books are sometimes very sad.
I do not spend my days hoping for nepenthe or pretending nepenthe exists.
Nepenthe may not exist. If nepenthe does not exist, then that may disarm the therapeutic theories that advocate and rely on trying to “forget” or to “let go.”
There may be some women who should not be encouraged to “let go,” “forget,” or “belittle” the loves they have lost. And I don’t think they should be made to feel guilty for the loves from which that can’t seem to disconnect themselves. If you pressure someone to stop caring for the loves of their past, then your pressure may even lead them to mental illness, madness, or self-harming behaviors, because they are torn between supposedly “conflicting” feelings that may both be as true to them as they have ever experienced.
When you ask someone to not feel the way they feel (even if it’s their wanting someone they can’t communicate with and the accompanying sadness), and when you ask someone to act in ways inconsistent with their honest feelings, you’re asking them to live a lie, and that can do more harm to them than good.
And those are some of the reasons I’ve never asked you to stop loving or to stop feeling sad. If you have open wounds, I encourage you do whatever you think might be best for everyone to address them.
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